


Head Over Heels

by flootiger



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootiger/pseuds/flootiger
Summary: Arty and head-strong Bill Kaulitz somehow lands himself in detention and he is certainly not happy about it. That is, until he finds an unlikely friend in Tom Trumper, soccer captain and notorious lady killer. It isn’t long until Bill discovers that Tom is rather a surprising character...
Relationships: Bill Kaulitz/Tom Kaulitz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Feel It All challenge on tokiohotelfiction and posted on 19 September 2015 :)
> 
> The lyrics/random words I had to include were: scars in our faces/invaded by you/cabin fever/toe brace

Bill Kaulitz was seething. Heavy boots thudded against the floor as he stormed down the school hall with a canvas under one arm and a cheap canteen coffee in the other. He received a few looks of disdain from one or two students as he tramped past them but returned their glare with ten times more venom, causing a group of preppy looking girls to roll their eyes and comment snidely on his make-up.

Whatever, Bill thought. At least I know how to apply it.

Ahead, a cluster of meat-head soccer players were fast approaching but Bill barely registered them as he barged right through their little crowd, only pausing to scoff as Georg wolf-whistled at him.

“Damn Kaulitz, where’d you learn how to strut like that!”

“Fuck off, Listing,” Bill sneered, throwing a manicured middle finger over his shoulder as he continued on his path. It was the hand that was gripping the watery coffee and it sloshed over his skin when he dropped his arm, too lukewarm to do him any harm but certainly wet enough to piss him off further.

“Great,” he mumbled irately. “Fucking great.”

Above him the final bell for school rang out, urging any straggling students to filter out the front doors or into classrooms that hosted any extra-curricular activities. It was Tuesday, which meant Bill was supposed to be heading to the art studios with Andreas, only today Andreas was going alone. And Bill was heading to detention for the first time in his life.

Bill Kaulitz didn’t get detention. He had a quick enough tongue to sass fellow students but was smart enough to avoid getting in trouble with the teachers. Bill was intelligent and hard working and kept his recalcitrant nature at bay during lesson time. Until today that was.

Professor Jost had been straying too far into homophobic bullshit territory in his Social Studies class and Bill had been so riled up by the end of the lesson that he’d snapped, calling out his teacher in front of their whole class before realising his mistake. Bill scowled and clenched the paper coffee cup a little too hard. The whole room had been stunned into silence and Bill cringed as he thought back to how badly the situation had gone. As if he needed to give his classmates another excuse to throw the word fag at him every chance they got.

It wasn’t that Bill was the school freak, Bill was reasonably popular in his own crowd of budding artists and music geeks, he was friendly with the theatre lot too as sometimes he helped with their stage productions. But unfortunately the buffoonery levels were high amongst some of his more sports-oriented peers and ever since Bill had started donning make-up and dressing in slightly more risqué clothes than ninety-nine percent of the school, he’d been on the receiving end of more insults and catcalls than he cared to think about.

Secretly, Bill thought they just didn’t know how to react to him. Bill was pretty enough to be a girl, but he was most definitely a boy and he sort of relished the fact that some of them had probably harboured at least half an erection when Bill wore a particularly tight pair of jeans.

Behind him he could still hear the macho banter being traded amongst Georg and his soccer team and for once he wished he could turn around and follow them to practice. He’d rather join in than go to detention. If Bill was being honest with himself, it was more pride than anything else; Bill had almost made it through high school with a clean record and he’d been secretly smug about that.

With a loud UGH Bill reached the classroom he was to spend the next hour in. A faded sign with greying lettering printed on it told Bill he was in the right place. The mocking word DETENTION was nose height and Bill snarled at it before he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

It was empty. No teacher sat behind the desk at the front and not one single student had shown up.

Feeling this was the most pointless waste of his life, Bill stomped to the back of the class and threw himself into a chair, his canvas clattering against the wood and the coffee spilling over the sides. At this point he barely had half of the stuff left.

“This is fucking stupid,” he grumbled, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the clock. He wondered if he could just leave...

“You got that right.”

Bill’s eyes shot to the door and then narrowed.

Tom Trumper was standing in the door way, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches and smirking lazily. Self professed lady-killer and captain of the soccer team, Bill had known Tom since they were tiny and they’d been left in a sandpit together by their parents at the local nursery to eat sand and make mud-pies. Bill hadn’t thought much of Tom back then and he didn’t now. The teen was dirty and crude and spent too much time on a skateboard or on a soccer pitch for Bill to have anything other than mild interest in the fact that he was quite good looking.

“Bill Kaulitz.”

“Yes?” Bill said archly.

“Nothing, I just like how it sounds.”

Bill curled his lip and turned away from Tom Trumper.

The clatter of Tom’s crutches made Bill turn back to him and he watched as Tom hobbled into the room. Bill supposed he should help him, seeing as he was crippled or whatever. But he was still simmering with barely suppressed rage that he was being held here against his will so instead he sat with his arms folded and his eyes fixed firmly on the clock above the blackboard.

But his reign of silence didn’t last long.

“So what are you in for?”

Bill gave Tom a flat look. “This isn’t prison.”

Tom lifted the corners of his mouth. “True. But if it were I wouldn’t be asking.”

Bill didn’t say anything, instead tapping his foot against the leg of his desk and glaring pointedly at not Tom.

“So?” Tom pressed, taking a seat right in front of Bill and twisting to he could face him. “What d’you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Bill informed him icily. “I just pointed out a few things to one of my teachers.”

“’Pointed out’?” Tom snickered. “That’s suicide round here.”

“Well it’s not my fault he’s an ignorant asshole,” Bill said bitterly.

“Is that what you told him?” Tom asked amusedly and set his crutches on the floor before leaning back and casually crossing his ankles on the seat of the chair opposite. Bill noticed his right foot was wrapped in a plaster cast and he found himself wondering what had happened to it.

“More or less,” he said in answer to Tom’s question. “He fucking deserved a whole lot worse though. Like, fuck... he sounded like such a dick.” He shook his head.

“Nice,” Tom snorted. “Jost?”

Bill blinked at Tom in surprise. “Yeah.”

“Yep, he’s an ignorant asshole.”

Bill pursed his lips and looked at Tom. The other boy was now fussing with his cast, trying to scritch behind it or something. It didn’t look comfy. He wanted to ask what had happened but he sort of also wanted to sit in prickly silence until Tom spoke to him again. Bill’s dramatic bought of resentment had not quite evaporated yet and so he brewed in angry silence. However, he was now watching Tom and not the clock.

The other boy was fidgeting in his seat, messing with his cast and tugging at the bill of his cap absently. Then Tom looked up at Bill again and fixed him with a grin, leaning back in his seat as though he didn’t give one flying fuck he was sitting here in detention like he had nothing better to do. Maybe he didn’t, Bill thought.

“What?” He glared at Tom, challenging the other boy.

“You gonna ask me what happened?”

“Erm, what?”

“To my foot,” Tom gave his toes a wiggle and Bill wrinkled his nose.

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Tom steepled his fingers as he regarded Bill. “It’s a good story.”

Bill wasn’t sure it would be, already steeling himself for a blow-by-blow account of Tom Trumper’s Top Ten soccer wipe-outs. “I don’t want to hear how you broke your foot during the final touchdown or whatever.”

“There’s no such thing as a touchdown in soccer,” Tom said. “Anyway, it wasn’t soccer, I was—”

“I’m good,” Bill spoke loudly over Tom. “Save it.”

“Aw,” Tom gave Bill a mocking pout. “Don’t be a bitch I promise it will make you laugh.”

Bill eyed Tom reproachfully. He was fully aware he was being a bitch but he didn’t like that Tom had called him out on it. Silently, he raised his eyes to the ceiling and thought he may as well give in to Tom or he’d probably never shut up.

“Fine,” he assented.

Tom looked at him for a moment, still smirking. Bill shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling scrutinised.

“Go on then,” Bill flapped an impatient hand.

Tom chortled and adjusted himself in his seat. “So I was at my little sister’s seventh birthday party and Georg and I were dressed as pirates and we’d gone all out; Captain Jack hats, scars in our faces, knee high boots, you know, all that shit—”

Bill snorted.

“What?” Tom tilted his head as he paused the story.

“Nothing,” Bill shook his head. “Carry on I want to hear more about the knee high boots.”

“Wouldn’t you just.”

Bill opened his mouth, mildly affronted. Tom laughed at him and Bill found himself smiling in return. “Whatever,” he mumbled, trying to reign in the sudden pink flush he felt prick in his cheeks.

“This next bit needs some re-enactment.”

Bill’s eyebrows rose to the roof as Tom stood, limping slightly on his injured foot as he positioned himself between the desks and faced Bill.

“So anyway,” Tom struck a pose, as though raising a sword ready to duel an invisible opponent.

“Oh my god,” Bill groaned. “I can see where this is going.”

“No no,” Tom flicked the tip of his imaginary sword at Bill. “Just hear me out, I promise it’s good. So Erik was filming the party, you know, ‘cause my mum asked him as a favour for not telling his mum about the whole puking on our living room floor incident the weekend before.”

Bill wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Tom ignored him and ploughed on. “Georg and I decided to put on a little bit of a show for Evie and her friends, and it was getting pretty good, we were on the tables and everything, swords clashing - wooden swords - and I was just about to beat Georg’s ass into next week when the ground disappeared and I fell about twenty feet and landed on my foot.”

Tom whipped his invisible sword and made a flailing motion.

Bill laughed. “So you fell off the table.”

“I actually fell into the paddling pool,” Tom admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking a bit sheepish.

Bill clamped a be-ringed hand over his mouth and snorted through his fingers.

“Didn’t I promise?”

“What?” Bill said, still smiling as he brought his hand down from his mouth.

“I said it would make you laugh and well...” Tom waved a demonstrative hand at Bill.

Carefully, Tom eased himself back into his chair, scooting it close to Bill’s desk this time and leaning his forearms against the wood. Bill found himself leaning forward too.

“What’s this?” Tom nudged Bill’s canvas with a finger.

“Oh,” Bill had almost forgotten the piece he’d bought in to detention as a sorry substitute for what he really wanted to be doing in the art studio. “It’s nothing really.” And truthfully, it wasn’t, just a quick oil painting he’d been working on as a side project.

“No come on,” Tom urged, flipping the painting round so they could both see it. “I wanna see.”

Bill didn’t stop the other boy but was surprised when Tom made a noise of blatant awe.

“It took me like, five minutes,” Bill said brusquely. He watched as Tom ran gentle fingers over the painting, tracing the lines of Bill’s brush. Usually Bill was funny about people touching his creations but for some reason he didn’t seem to mind Tom’s calloused hands dusting over the canvas. Bill’s sour mood had disappeared entirely now, and he felt comfortable in the classroom alone with the other boy. Tom’s relaxed nature seemed to be having an effect on him.

“It’s awesome,” Tom said, not looking away from Bill’s painting.

Bill made a scoffing sound.

“It is,” Tom insisted. “I wish I could draw.”

“I’m sure you have other talents,” Bill said, thinking of soccer. He had never in his life been to one of the school matches but he assumed Tom must be good, being the captain and all.

“I play guitar,” Tom shrugged, finally looking up at Bill again.

Bill hadn’t noticed how close they were until he realised he could see all of Tom’s dark lashes fanning around warm eyes. The other boy was handsome and open-faced and an odd swirling had taken up residence in Bill’s belly. Mindful of Tom’s reputation, Bill put a firm hand over his stomach and tried to quell the insurgence. This was highly out of character and Bill felt a bit knocked off-kilter. He decided to ignore the impromptu butterflies and instead mustered up the same easy chatter that Tom had been dishing out.

“Are you good?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Tom grinned. “No point being modest about it.”

Bill gave a derisive snort.

“I’ll play for you sometime.”

Tom held Bill’s gaze steadily and his tongue flicked out to touch the ring that had been bolted through his lower lip. Bill swallowed.

Before he could give a verbal response, the door banged open and in hurried Mrs Handel, the batty old History teacher who had taught Bill last year.

“Quiet now please,” she said loudly, not even paying the two of them a glance as she deposited about eight books on the desk and disappeared behind them.

“Fucking perfect,” Bill said, sitting back in a huff as he felt his bitter mood return. He’d found himself enjoying Tom’s company more than he expected to and a quick glance at the clock again told him he still had another forty minutes to go, no doubt these ones much less entertaining.

“Quiet,” Mrs Handel repeated, this time sparing them a glare over the top of her tower of literature.

Before Tom turned back to the front of the classroom he winked at Bill.

This time Bill couldn’t stop his cheeks turning pink.

~

By the time the forty minutes were up Tom was tapping a repetitive beat out with his good foot and Bill was trying not so scream. He was un-used to sitting around with not a lot to do, much preferring to fill his spare time with art projects and extra classes, or helping his mother out at her cafe. Sitting here in silence made him feel antsy and unsettled, as though he was suffering from a severe bout of cabin fever.

“You may leave now,” Mrs Handel said at last as clock hit the hour mark.

Hastily, Bill gathered his things and hurried for the door. Before he reached it however he turned, biting his lip guiltily as he saw Tom was heaving himself up on the crutches.

“Do you...” Bill began lamely and gestured with his arm.

But before he could finish Tom waved a hand. “Nah, I’m good. This thing comes off tomorrow, then I can get back on my feet properly.”

“Oh,” Bill said. “Okay.”

“Wait for me though,” Tom told him, frowning in concentration as he tucked in his chair with a crutch and grinned triumphantly at Bill when he managed it.

“Small victories,” Bill said amusedly.

“Yep,” Tom agreed.

Bill waited for Tom, throwing a final glance at Mrs Handel before they both exited the classroom into the school hall. Together they walked, Bill anxiously glancing at his watch and realising he should probably hurry back, it was gone five and he knew his mother would be worked off her feet during the afternoon rush.

“So why’d we stop being friends?” Tom asked out of the blue.

Startled, Bill looked at the other boy. “Were we ever really friends?”

“Well,” Tom looked back at Bill as they walked slowly down the corridor. “Sure, remember when we used to play in that sandpit?”

Bill laughed. “We were like two, I don’t think that counted as a friendship.”

“I thought so,” Tom shrugged good naturedly as he pushed through the double front doors that led to the front quad of the school. Outside it was still sunny, but the temperature was cooling now that evening was pressing in.

“I don’t know,” Bill continued. “We chose different crowds I guess.”

“Trumper!”

Bill groaned at the same time that Tom whooped. A walking talking example of ‘other crowds’ was loping towards them both with a cocky grin and a sports bag tossed over one shoulder.

“Hey, man!” Tom greeted Georg with a pat on the back. “Practice?”

“Just finished,” Georg grinned as he fell into step beside Tom and completely ignored Bill. Bill was perfectly happy to melt into the background, talking to Georg Listing was not high on his priority list.

“Did you speak to Miss Pechner?” Tom sounded guilty.

“Yeah,” Georg said. “She’s not happy you missed practice again.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Tom’s voice rose indignantly. “Mateo is a little bitch, I should have knocked him cold so he couldn’t rat me out.”

Bill smiled. Mateo was in his English class and he didn’t think much of the needy little weasel.

Georg guffawed. “Next time, man. Don’t see why you even need to be there anyway, it’s not like you can play at the moment.”

“Tactics,” Tom said with a knowing look. “I’m like the mastermind behind our every victory.”

He winked at Bill who rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing with Kaulitz?” Georg asked, as though he’d only just noticed Bill’s presence.

Bill jerked his head over to Tom’s friend to see Georg smirking at him. He shot him a vicious glare in return, not in the mood for any of his lecherous remarks.

“Oh,” Tom turned to Bill with a grin. “We had detention together.”

“No fucking way!” Georg’s eyebrows rose and Bill thought he looked impressed. “Bill Kaulitz in detention.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Bill said to Tom.

“Aw, we had fun though right?”

Bill shrugged, holding his canvas close to his chest. It had been alright, if the odd little flips his belly was still performing were anything to go by.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start hanging out together.”

“Fuck off Georg,” Tom said easily, slugging his friend in the arm with an elbow. “We’re friends now, right Bill?”

Bill was startled by Tom’s behaviour around his friend. It surprised him that Tom was still chatting away, even calling him a friend, when he was in front of his ultra cool sports friend Georg Listing. They were both oiks, the type who could throw (or kick) a ball around but didn’t really stand a chance of acing a maths test. The school ran by their rules rather than the Principal’s and more often than not they had a different girl hanging off their arm every week.

Bill wasn’t sure he and Tom were friends, no matter how much he found himself wanting to be.

But he acquiesced nonetheless. “I guess.”

Georg flicked his gaze between the two of them for several seconds before shrugging and turning to jog across the quad. “Whatever. I’ll see you losers tomorrow!”

“Ugh.”

“He’s not all bad,” Tom said as he and Bill continued down towards the school gates.

Bill begged to differ but he held his tongue, only too aware of the trouble it had caused him today already.

“So you wanna hang out?”

Tom was just full of surprises. His confident demeanour threw Bill. He wasn’t shy, but he and Tom didn’t exactly run in the same circles, and he fully expected it to remain that way. It seemed Tom had other ideas however.

“Now?”

Tom smiled. “Sure.”

“I can’t,” Bill said. It unnerved him a little to feel the soft jab of disappointment in his chest as he watched Tom’s smile fade. “I have to help out my mum at her cafe.”

“That’s too bad,” Tom said as they reached the gate and emerged onto the street. Autumn leaves were strewn across the pavement, some of them swirling into the road and around the pillars by the school entrance. “I’ll come find you tomorrow at school then.”

“Tom,” Bill began, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Tom lifted his eyebrows in question. “I don’t know, going home I suppose.”

“No I mean,” Bill shook his head. They’d paused under a chestnut tree and a few more golden leaves tumbled down around them in the evening breeze. “We’re not friends, this is weird.”

Tom chuckled. “I don’t see it that way.”

“Then how do you see it?”

“I like you,” Tom said. “You’re fun.”

“Am I?” Bill was taken aback.

“Yes,” Tom laughed again, his good nature was infectious. Bill found himself chuckling softly, too.

“Tomorrow?” Tom turned away to cross the street.

“Yeah,” Bill said, at last just letting go of his hang ups and caving to Tom’s bizarre offer of friendship. “See you tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter Two

“He wants to hang out?” Gustav asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah,” Bill said.

“Well he can’t hang out here,” Gustav said flatly.

“Yes he can!” Natalie piped up.

“You only want him to hang out here so you can ogle him up close,” Gustav rejoined.

Natalie threw a tomato at Gustav and scowled. “And you only don’t want him here because you think he’ll steal your girlfriend.”

Gustav eyed Natalie from behind thick black frames. “I am not worried about that.”

“I would be,” Andreas teased.

“Guys,” Bill groaned.

They were sitting at their usual spot in the canteen, the lunchtime hullaballoo bustling around them unnoticed. It was Wednesday, and so far Bill had seen neither hide nor hair of Tom, his supposed new friend. As the lunch hour wore on, Bill’s face was growing more and more thunderous and he didn’t want to think about why that might be. He’d somehow let Tom get under his skin in the space of less than twenty-four hours and when the buzz of his alarm had awoken him this morning, going to school had suddenly not seemed like the worst prospect in the world.

Now however, his usual feelings of apathy towards the whole school ordeal were beginning to return.

“So when is golden boy joining us?”

Bill gave Andreas a look and sipped at his coke, twirling the straw thoughtfully on his tongue before he crunched the plastic between his teeth. “Probably never,” he couldn’t keep from sounding morose. Perhaps this appeal for friendship Tom had seemed to be vying for was just a joke and now that today was a new day, the other boy had simply forgotten Bill as soon as the next full-breasted hussy had turned doe eyes upon him. Bill knew Tom had never exactly been left wanting for female company.

“Whatever,” Andreas gave a flippant flick of his wrist. “You don’t need him.”

Andreas didn’t like Tom much. In elementary school he’d kicked a soccer ball at Andreas’ head more times than could be called an accident and while Bill had thought it was funny, Andreas hadn’t been so forgiving. As dramatic as Bill could often be, Andreas was more so; perhaps a consequence of being cast as the lead in one too many school plays.

“Yeah,” Natalie said, leaning her elbows onto the table and smiling at Bill. “You have us.”

“I know I don’t need him,” Bill retorted, miffed that they thought he’d suddenly become dependent on the soccer captain.

“No,” Gustav said evenly. “But you want him.”

Bill sputtered, nearly swallowing his straw and wondering if Gustav was angling for a punch in the face.

“What?!”

Gustav levelled a knowing look across the table at him and said, “You’re not as subtle as you like to think, Kaulitz.”

“Subtle,” Andreas laughed shortly and tugged on one of Bill’s bleached streaks until Bill swatted him away in irritation. “Have you seen Bill?”

But Natalie shushed him with a flutter of her hand. “You like Tom Trumper??”

Bill was staring across the table at Gustav and Natalie with wide eyes. “I—what... no, shut the fuck up Gustav.”

“Aw,” Natalie cooed, leaning her head against Gustav’s shoulder and giving Bill a simpering look. “Bill it’s okay, we don’t care who you like.”

“I do,” Andreas spoke up loudly. “Bill, you can’t date Tom Trumper, he’s a dumbass.”

“How are we even discussing this?” Bill groaned and covered his face with both hands. “I don’t want to date Tom Trumper.”

“You don’t? That’s too bad.”

Bill’s head snapped up and he found himself looking up into the knowing eyes of Tom Trumper himself. His heart rabbited in his chest and his cheeks burned with fresh embarrassment. Why on earth did Tom have to choose that exact moment to join them?! Bill swore internally and for a split second, sincerely hoped the ground would swallow him up.

“You have impeccable timing,” Gustav said to the soccer captain.

“You know, I think my teachers would beg to differ,” Tom replied. Without waiting another beat Tom grabbed the chair that was next to Bill and dumped himself into it, grinning around at the four friends.

“I’m Tom,” he introduced himself.

“We all know who you are,” Andreas said dryly. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not popular.”

Tom’s smile stuttered for a moment before he shrugged. “Alright then.”

“I’m Natalie,” Natalie spoke up, her voice breathier than normal. Bill threw her a scornful look and hoped she wouldn’t end up in Tom’s lap by the end of lunch. Natalie was one of his best friends but the girl was a flirt who sometimes just couldn’t help herself and if Tom’s reputation was anything to go by, neither could he. Bill had to catch himself then, wondering when he started giving a shit who Natalie flirted with, or Tom for that matter. Especially Tom.

“I know, we have PE together,” Tom said amicably. “You’re good at hockey.”

Natalie giggled and Bill wanted to throw up his lunch.

“I’m going to meet Hazel,” Gustav announced suddenly, standing and collecting his books. “Andreas? Nat?”

Natalie gave him petulant eyes and mumbled something about not wanting to be a third wheel.

“Andreas is coming too, right Andy?” Gustav fixed Andreas with a stare so cutting that the blond jumped up, hastily packing away the Biology homework he’d been trying to cram in before next period.

“Fine, fine,” Natalie assented, giving Bill a wink as she gathered up her belongings.

Bill stared up at the three of them, not really understanding what was going on.

“Bye!” Tom said cheerily from beside him and gave a little salute. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Likewise,” Natalie said with a smile. Andreas grunted and hoisted his backpack higher on his back before giving Bill a hard look. Gustav elbowed him and Bill watched as Andreas looked a bit sheepish, before the three of them departed with a wave.

“See you in last period,” Bill said lamely as he watched his three friends disappear into the hoards of people flowing in and out of the school canteen. The four of them shared one class together, Maths, and on a Wednesday their day culminated in it.

“Just the two of us,” Tom said, edging his seat closer to Bill and slinging an arm over the back of Bill’s chair.

“Erm, yeah,” Bill said, not really sure what Tom was insinuating, if anything.

He was fixing Bill with that easy expression he seemed to have on almost permanently. The effect was disorienting but also not entirely unwelcome, Bill thought.

“You weren’t in Chemistry,” he said quickly, eager to dispel the sudden swarm of butterflies that had once again made itself known in his belly. He was being absurd, this was so unlike him to get all hung up on a guy. Independence was Bill’s middle name, a cool exterior and slightly prickly nature had ensured him safe passage from silly crushes up until now. The unwelcome realisation suddenly dawned on Bill that perhaps it was more of a defence mechanism than an actual desire to be single throughout high school.

“Nope,” Tom agreed.

Bill watched curiously as Tom pushed away from the table so his chair scraped against the fading linoleum of the canteen floor. As soon as he was far enough away Tom lifted his foot and wiggled his ankle.

“You got the cast off,” Bill said, smiling up at Tom. So that would explain Tom’s absence this morning.

“Gotta wear this stupid toe-brace for a couple of weeks though,” Tom pulled a sour expression and Bill laughed at him.

“Can I see it?”

“What? The toe-brace?” Tom wrinkled his forehead. “It’s not very exciting, plus my foot’s gone all scaly from the cast.”

Bill pretended to gag. “Okay okay, I’ve changed my mind, keep your foot in your shoe.”

Tom chuckled. “You’re so easy.”

“Easy?” Bill gave Tom a sharp look. “You’d better not be suggesting what I think you are, Trumper.” Bill levelled a stern look at the other boy.

“I wouldn’t dare” Tom grinned. “To make laugh,” he explained smoothly, scooting back in and laying his arm back down on Bill’s chair again, a solid warmth that Bill felt he could get used to. “I like it.”

Bill hated the creep of heat he felt rise up his neck and he ducked away from Tom, hiding behind his long dark hair until he could control the embarrassed blush.

“Where’s your posse today?” Bill asked instead, becoming once again interested in his coke.

“My posse?”

Bill turned back to look at Tom, twisting in his seat until they were angled towards each other. It was intimate, Bill realised, the way Tom’s arm was slung around his shoulders and their chairs were touching. If Bill shifted he could probably nudge their thighs together, but he didn’t.

Remembering Tom had asked him a question, he pulled a face. “Georg and Anders and the others, you know,” Bill looked at Tom. “Your posse.”

“My friends,” Tom amended with an amused smile. “I don’t know honestly, I came to find you as soon as mum dropped me back at school after the doctors.”

Bill felt a warmth spread inside his chest and he indulged himself a little, letting it manifest and settle somewhere low in his belly.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I wanted to see you,” Tom said smoothly.

“Tom,” Bill laughed. “I’m not worth it.”

“Worth what?” Tom wanted to know.

Bill gesticulated vaguely. “Just not worth it, I’m not your type.”

Immediately, Bill realised what he was implying. He had meant he didn’t fit the bill for Tom’s usual crowd; however he knew it sounded as though he thought Tom had a crush on him. Which was ludicrous and most definitely not the case.

He blinked wide eyes at Tom, waiting for him to jump up in offense or vehemently deny any sort of crush on Bill, maybe even hit him.

Instead Tom leaned in close to Bill, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling.

“Who’s to say you’re not?” He said in a low voice. It barely cut above the ruckus of the canteen but Bill caught every word.

His jaw dropped. “I—I’m a boy,” he said weakly.

Tom lifted his shoulders in a shrug and a calloused finger came up to trace down Bill’s temple, gently brushing aside a stray lock of his fringe. Bill’s heart was hammering against his rib cage and suddenly the room felt far too hot.

“I like you,” Tom said, the same words he’d spoken yesterday outside the school gates.

Tom’s eyes were deep and sincere and the sucked Bill in like a vortex. Without meaning to, Bill zeroed in on the metal ring that pierced Tom’s lower lip and he swallowed when Tom’s tongue flicked out to dabble it with a pink tip. The sudden realisation that Bill was about to be kissed slammed into his chest and he drew back with a gasp.

This was too much for Bill. He sprang to his feet, snatching his bag from the chair beside him and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Um, see you later,” he mumbled before he tore from the canteen in a desperate bid to escape Tom Trumper.

~

Final period dragged. Bill sat at the back of the class with Natalie, Andreas and Gustav and had to spend the majority of the lesson trying to ignore their interrogation about his lunch date with Tom.

“It wasn’t a date,” Bill hissed at them for the umpteenth time.

“Sure,” Gustav replied wryly.

“It so was,” Natalie whispered loudly. “The way he was looking at you Bill, oooo, it gave me shivers. Those were sex eyes if ever I saw any.”

Andreas scoffed. “Nat, you make him sound like such a fucking predator.”

“Andy,” Bill groaned, trying his best to focus on the equation in front of him.

“Actually,” Andreas was still talking, his voice sounding ponderous. “I bet that’s what he’s doing. Bill you’d better watch out he’s probably going to start molesting you in the boy’s toilets or something.”

Bill cringed at Andreas’ crude choice of language but couldn’t help joining in the conversation. “Why though? Why me?”

This time all three of them scoffed. “Are you serious?” Andreas deadpanned.

“What?” Bill’s eyes widened innocently and he finally gave up on today’s assignment, setting his pen down on the paper and giving his friends his full attention. Around them the low buzz of chatter was keeping their conversation hidden from prying ears and the teacher was paying them very little mind, obviously caught up in her own affairs at the front of the class if the phone in her hand was anything to go by.

“Have you seen yourself?”

“Yes,” Bill said impatiently. “I look good, so what?”

“Well there you go,” Gustav said. “You aren’t the only one who’s noticed you look good.”

Bill stared around his group of friends.

“You must have seen the entire soccer team follow your ass around during PE,” Andreas added helpfully.

This time Bill spluttered. “No I have not!”

But in truth, he sort of had. For all their teases and taunts at Bill’s expense, he had known for some time it was probably a cover up for more depraved fantasies. It had never bothered him because he’d never really thought too much into it, just tried to get by with a few snappy rejoinders or scathing glares. Besides, Bill had standards.

Natalie nodded. “I heard Stephanie and Ria bitch about you in the girl’s toilets the other day.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel good?” Bill pinned her with a sour look.

“What she means is,” Gustav stepped in. “You’re prettier than most of the girls around here, you cause a stir and you know it. Girls don’t like that.”

“Yeah girls are like peacocks, they don’t like anyone who is prettier than them.”

Natalie whacked Andreas on the arm. “Shut the fuck up you idiot, you don’t know anything about girls.”

The two of them broke into a brief spat, bickering back and forth while Gustav returned his attention to his class work.

Bill was immensely confused. Was Tom suggesting he wanted more than a friendship with Bill or was he simply being nice to Bill? Tom didn’t know Bill, how could he know if he had a crush on him when they’d spent barely two hours together in the last seventeen years of their short lives. Bill realised that of course it was possible, for he himself had been crushing on Tom for the past day without even knowing how it had got to that point. The guy was easy going and funny, not to mention extremely good looking with a killer body. Bill found himself wondering what it would feel like to be pressed against a surface by that body, have Tom’s calloused hands run all over his naked form, that lip ring scrape against his skin, Tom’s dark eyes boring into him as he—

“Bill? Bill!”

Bill jumped, releasing his lower lip from where he’d caught it unconsciously between his teeth.

“Huh?”

“Class is over,” Andreas was giving him a funny look. Around him only a few strays were left in the room, the others clearly having departed in a hurry to get home.

Bill cleared his throat self-consciously and hoped Andreas had not suddenly developed psychic abilities. “Where’re Nat and Gustav?”

Andreas frowned at him but answered nonetheless. “Gone, they’ve got band practice.”

“Oh. Oh yeah,” Bill said, not looking at Andreas and instead hurrying to chuck his stuff back in his bag. He felt hot and flustered.

“You okay?” Andreas asked as they made their way out the classroom and headed to the exit. Today was another art studio day, and Bill had plans to make up for yesterday’s detention mishap (which he was still less than happy about).

“Yeah,” he said distractedly as they rounded a corner and almost collided with someone coming the other way.

“Watch it—oh!”

“Hey, Bill!”

Tom Trumper was standing before him, his usual easy grin in place. He was dressed in his soccer kit, blue and white to represent the school colours, his dreadlocks held back in a ponytail with a thick elastic band and a sweat band wrapped around his forehead. Bill never knew he had a thing for men in uniform but he found himself staring at Tom hungrily.

“If you’re here to molest him you can just leave,” Andreas said loudly, breaking Bill’s brief reverie.

“Andy, what the fuck??” Bill hissed, glaring at his friend.

Tom held his hands high. “I promise I’m not here to molest Bill, that’s not my style.”

“Then what is?” Andreas eyed Tom shrewdly.

“Dinner and a movie?” Tom suggested, flicking a glance at Bill before shoving his hands in his pockets and regarding Andreas politely.

“Oh my god,” Bill groaned, blushing right to his roots. Tom was not doing anything to calm the crazy flip-flops his belly was performing and he’d pretty much just confirmed his intentions. Bill couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“Don’t blush,” Tom said, catching Bill’s gaze and holding it. “We can keep it PG until your bodyguard leaves us alone.”

“Andreas,” Bill said to his friend. “Can you fuck off please?”

“Lovely,” Andreas poked his tongue out at Bill but he knew his friend didn’t mind. “I suppose you want me to cover for you at the studio again?”

“Yes please,” Bill replied meekly.

“If there is any below the waist action,” Andreas aimed a threatening finger at Tom. “I’ll set Gustav on you.”

“Andy!” Bill barked.

With a final sulky glance at Bill, the blond departed, leaving just he and Tom and a few other dawdlers in the corridor.

“I was looking for you,” Tom said, throwing an arm around Bill’s waist and drawing him in close. Bill tensed as Tom guided them along the hall and out into a sunny afternoon. Tom’s confidence was making him feel off-balance, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle himself around the soccer captain.

“Oh... erm, okay.”

“Yeah,” Tom gave Bill’s small waist a light squeeze. “Why’d you run off like that? At lunch I mean.”

Bill heaved a sigh, knowing this had been coming. “I... I don’t really know. You’re quite intense.” He side-eyed a look at Tom who smirked.

“Am I coming on too strong?”

Bill shook his head. “No-- just a bit... you’re,” Bill paused, searching for the right word. “Surprising,” he finished.

“Surprising,” Tom parroted. “Huh.”

Bill glanced anxiously around them, wondering if anyone from Tom’s posse was about to ambush them and declare Bill a frilly queer and cause Tom to snap to his senses and abandon Bill with a snarl of disgust. A couple of people waved at Tom as they strolled across the quad and some even shouted his name but Tom only greeted them back, never dropping his arm from around Bill’s waist.

“You’ve got to admit,” Bill continued. “This isn’t really your usual. Tom Trumper; lady-killer and high school soccer hero.”

“I wouldn’t say hero,” Tom said. “So, dinner and a movie?”

Bill blinked at him. “Um, yeah?”

“How about Friday?”

“Sure,” Bill said, relieved he didn’t have to turn Tom down a second time as tonight he’d promised his mum he’d cover another shift at the cafe.

“Great!” Tom finally let go of Bill’s waist and turned to him, smiling so brightly Bill had to close his eyes against the glare for one moment. The next second he felt Tom’s fingers encircle his wrist and just as he opened his eyes a pair of chapped lips were pressed gently to his cheek.

“Oh,” Bill uttered as Tom pulled away, still holding onto his wrist loosely.

“See you tomorrow, Bill Kaulitz!”

Bill was left standing in a daze as Tom ran off towards the school gates, a limp still in his step and his dreadlocks bouncing at the nape of his neck. Slowly, Bill raised a hand to touch the place Tom had kissed him and grinned.


	3. Chapter Three

Thursday and Friday flew by. Bill had to spend most of the time fending off his friends’ teasing about his date with Tom and this time Bill couldn’t really deny what it was. An excited flutter started up in his belly every time he thought of what he and Tom might do on their date. So far Bill’s romantic encounters had consisted only of curious kisses and awkward over-the-clothes gropes with boys and girls only interested in copping a feel in order to claim they’d seen some action. Quite frankly, they had put Bill off searching for any chance of a repeat experience.

Tom seemed to be different however. Bill was still wary of the other’s boys motives, half expecting him to turn around and laugh in his face over the whole thing. But so far Tom had been quite the gentleman. They’d hung out a lot during free time at school, Tom sidling over to join them during lunch with offerings of classroom anecdotes and home-made cookies (courtesy of his mother, Bill had learned and not the soccer captain himself).

Natalie seemed to be quite taken by Tom and had cornered Bill that morning to say how excited she was for him that he seemed to have found someone. Bill had blushed deeply at that and whacked her on the arm crossly, quick to dispel her belief that he’d ‘found someone’ as she’d put it. He and Tom were a bit of fun, right? Natalie was getting carried away.

Gustav and Andreas required more work. However, Bill could see that behind Gustav’s stoic nature with regards to Tom and Andy’s slightly erratic one, they were both warming to the dread-head, albeit begrudgingly.

Now, Bill was standing in the school hall by his locker while the bustle of students eager to leave this hellhole for the weekend flowed past him like a current. Natalie was by his elbow, chattering about her hopes for Bill’s date and Bill was trying to ignore both his friend and the riotous butterflies that had been buffeting his insides all day.

“He’s quite a player, you know,” Natalie was saying. “He’ll probably try and make a move on you or something. I heard he’s got a 100% success rate. Would you let him? Do you think you’ll do it? Bill! Oh my god, do you? You have to tell me everything if you do!”

“Natalie!”

Bill whirled around, his books still half hanging out his locker and glared at his friend. Natalie didn’t cow, as he’d hoped she would. Instead, she grinned impishly at him and jiggled from foot to foot excitedly.

“You’re not even sorry, are you?”

“What for?” She said innocently. “I’m just asking as a friend.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Bill said as he turned back to his locker. Although he knew there was no guarantee of nothing happening. Tom did have quite a reputation, and Bill had found himself falling right into the trap, quite willingly at that. He pressed a firm hand to his belly.

“But you’ll tell me if it does, right?”

Bill finally managed to cram all his belongings into the locker and slam the door shut with a tinny clang. He turned to his friend to find her bouncing on the tips of her toes and looking like this was entirely too thrilling.

“Calm down,” he said, shouldering his bag and regarding her. Then be broke into a smile. “Of course I will, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Even before Andy?”

“Even before Andy,” Bill said, falling into step beside Natalie as they made their way towards the exit. “Although if anything does happen I’m not sure I’ll want to tell him, he’ll probably throttle me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natalie said as they pushed out the school doors along with a crowd of other students. “Tom might want to avoid him if he’s planning on keeping his balls though.”

Bill laughed and threw a fond arm around his little blonde friend. “Thanks Nat, I’ll give Tom a heads up.”

“And why would I need a heads up?”

“Shit!” Bill jumped, not expecting to see Tom right by his side. He seemed to have a habit of turning up without any warning and Bill wondered how much he had heard.

“How long have you been there?” He squeaked.

They crowd was dissipating somewhat and the three of them followed the path that would peel off towards the student car park.

“Not long,” Tom said, shrugging and then reaching for Bill’s hand. Bill tensed the moment he felt slim fingers thread through his own together but soon relaxed, realising this was okay, this was easy. Not to mention even the tiniest of touches from Tom made Bill’s whole body thrum with nervous excitement and really, he couldn’t get enough.

“Anyway,” Tom continued. “What do I need a heads up about?”

Bill shot a warning glance at Natalie who was grinning at the pair.

“Nothing,” she trilled, smiling at Tom openly. “Just be careful with Bill, you have a reputation and he has three very protective friends.”

Bill tensed, ready to smack the grin off her face and quickly flicked a glance at Tom, praying he wasn’t as pale as he felt.

Tom was blinking at her, and then brought Bill’s hand to his lips and kissed them gently. “I promise to behave.” He winked at him and then looked at Natalie expectantly.

“Be good!” Natalie said, then turned with a departing wave. “I have a bus to catch, see you on Monday Bill, Tom!”

Bill watched her go with his mouth half hanging open. He should banish Andreas and Natalie from all form of contact with Tom, at least Gustav was subtle about his ire. Besides, Natalie had said she’d approved of Tom. Bill blinked and then turned to Tom with an apology on his tongue.

Before he could say anything however Tom waved his free hand airily, brushing Bill’s unspoken apology aside.

“So that’s two of them now,” he said with a grin at Bill.

Bill was often taken by surprise by Tom’s easygoing nature but this time it seemed he was finally growing accustomed to it. With Natalie’s impertinence forgotten, Bill asked; “Two of them what?”

“Who have threatened me,” Tom laughed. “You have good friends.”

“I’m going to have dead friends if they keep this up,” Bill growled.

Tom laughed again and led them both down the path and into the car park with the other students who were lucky enough to have their own ride to and from school. Bill wondered what sort of ride Tom had, half ready to place bets on a flashy looking motorbike of some kind.

He almost snorted when he realised he was half-right.

Tom halted before a banged up old moped. It was ancient and rusting, peeling orange paint curling up in places so it looked almost fragile. One of the wing mirrors was duck-taped on and the leather seat was patchy in places.

When Bill looked back at Tom with a laugh bubbling from his lips he saw the other boy grinning sheepishly at him.

“I’m saving for college,” he said as he let go of Bill’s hand and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not much.”

Bill shook his head. “I love it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Bill grinned and hiked his bag up his shoulder. “Mum doesn’t let me drive, I walk everywhere. So this is like a fucking chariot or something.”

Tom snorted. “Hardly. But I like that you think so.”

The moment hung sweet between them and Bill felt his insides go warm as Tom regarded him with smiling eyes. Tom took a step closer, sliding Bill’s bag from his shoulder gently before he wound an arm around Bill’s waist and drew him close. Bill watched as Tom’s face moved in closer and just as his eyes fluttered shut a shout sounded from behind them.

“Get a room!”

Bill’s instinct was to shy away from Tom instantly, but Tom wouldn’t let him. His arm drew him close as he glared at whoever had yelled out.

“Georg,” Bill grit out.

Tom winced, looking mildly sheepish that it had been his friend who was harassing them. At least it didn’t seem to be a genuine taunt, Bill thought, more than used to snide comments and offensive jeers.

“Get lost Georg, Bill and I are headed out.”

Bill was surprised at Tom’s tone of voice, unused to seeing him behave aggressively, however trifling.

Georg opened his mouth but then shut it again just as he reached the pair. With somewhat wary eyes he surveyed the two of them, Tom’s arm wrapped possessively around Bill’s waist and Bill standing tall beside him, certainly not about to be put down by someone who had made more comments about his ass than Bill thought he ought to hear during his life time let alone his high school career.

“Sorry,” Georg then said, stowing both hands in his pockets.

Bill’s eyebrows rose.

“It’s cool,” Tom said. “Look, leave off Bill will you?”

Georg nodded. “Didn’t think you were serious about him, man.”

Bill watched the interaction with interest. This was a new side to Tom’s friend. He looked cowed, ashamed even. Bill hadn’t realised all he’d had to do all these years was just befriend Tom and Georg would leave him be. It seemed rather... high school to Bill.

“I am,” Tom said solemnly and cinched his arm even snugger around Bill’s waist.

Bill tensed, his cheeks flooding with pink as Tom spoke. Tom was serious? About what? ...About Bill?

Bill felt a thrill jolt somewhere around his navel but he remained silent as the other two conversed.

“Fine, fine,” Georg said, sliding a grin across his features and punching Tom in the arm lightly. “Let me make it up to you sometime? Bill?”

Bill could hardly believe what was happening. He frowned at Georg, who was looking at him hopefully. Then sighed and acquiesced. He supposed Tom had made an effort with his friends, he should do the same.

“You owe me a fucking five star holiday and a yacht,” he said grouchily, not quite willing to befriend his high school harasser so readily.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” Georg said with a Cheshire cat smile, already walking backwards from them.

“I’m willing to compromise on the yacht!” Bill called after him, cupping one hand to his mouth as he shouted.

Georg saluted and turned to jog away to his own car which was parked in the sunny side of the car park. Tom’s moped was situated beneath the dappled light cast by a small cluster of silver birches.

“He’s—”

“Not all bad, yeah I know,” Bill said, sighing.

“You’ll get used to him,” Tom tried hopefully.

Bill looked at him and saw such eagerness in Tom’s eyes that he gave in, finding himself wanting nothing more than to please Tom. It was so odd, all these new feelings Tom had stirred inside him, entirely unwarranted yet certainly not unwelcome. Bill had never lived to please anyone but himself, yet here he was. And when Tom directed a warm smile at him, Bill thought it might all be worth it.

“Are you gonna take me for a ride?” He asked as he watched Tom stow away both their bags beneath the seat and slam it shut again before he swung a leg over the bike and settled astride it.

“If you’ll let me,” Tom flashed him another smile, this one more playful, this one teasing with promises of something new and thrilling to come. It sent a hot spark down to Bill’s groin and he had to shake his head minutely to try and clear his thoughts.

“Hop on,” Tom instructed, jarring Bill back to the present again.

Bill did, climbing on behind Tom and gripping his waist. Tom felt warm and secure against his chest and he found himself nestling in close, partly because the leather was slippery and worn and he scooted forward involuntarily as he sat down, but mostly because it felt nice to have the soccer captain in his arms.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Tom revved the engine and the moped putted to life.

“It’s a surprise,” Tom half turned and gave Bill a wink.

Bill’s arms squeezed around Tom’s middle and he held on tight as the other boy twisted his wrist and the rusty old thing surged forward with a few coughs of protest and out of the student car park.

They didn’t travel for long. Autumnal colours blurred past them both as Tom whizzed down the streets, dodging student cars that queued up in lengthy strips for a couple of blocks. It was always this busy after school, one of the perks of walking home was that Bill never got caught in it. It seemed Tom didn’t either, zipping in and out of the traffic on his faded orange moped. The wind whipped through Bill’s hair, probably tangling into in to a lion’s mane, but he didn’t mind, enjoying the freedom that came with riding behind the solid warmth of Tom’s body.

They came to a stop a few blocks away from school in one of the many areas of their hometown that hosted a small cluster of shops and cafes. During the day these places would mostly be filled with yummy-mummies and stay-at-home dads toting their kids around and gossiping in the food aisles of the little grocery stores, come four o clock and the students overran the cafes, eager for caffeine fixes they couldn’t necessarily find at school. It was mostly residential and life was simple around here. Bill liked it well enough but had hopes and dreams of moving away and opening art galleries in the big city.

After he’d kicked the stand down, Tom killed the engine and parked up before they both climbed off the bike. Bill’s legs felt slightly wobbly, a buzz running through them from the vibrations of the motor’s dilapidated engine.

“Can you walk okay?” Tom cocked him a look and Bill knew he was teasing.

“I’m fine,” he said breezily and looked around at where they were. “What’s your big surprise then?”

“This!” Tom was facing the buildings lined neatly along the pavement.

Bill turned and chuckled. “Ice-cream?”

“Everybody loves ice-cream,” Tom told him, striding forward and offering up a hand for Bill to grasp onto as he led them both to the ice-cream parlour. “Besides, summer is almost over and I want to cling on to that.”

Bill waved a hand at the russet trees lining the street. “I think you might have missed your chance.”

“Nah,” Tom said, pushing open the door to the parlour and tugging Bill along. “The leaves are still on the trees, that counts.”

“If you say so,” Bill said, smiling at Tom as he guided them both to the counter.

Bill eyed the dozens of flavours double-lining the inside of the counter, his mouth already watering. Food was not something he ever passed up, especially if it was something sweet. With happy eyes, he looked at Tom who he found was already watching him.

“Take your pick,” Tom said, gesturing grandly at the assortment of flavours. “I’m buying.”

In the end they decided to share an enormous vanilla-brownie sundae, having discovered that they were both ravenous. It now sat between them on a plastic-topped table while they mined into it with long silver spoons. Around them the parlour was busy, Bill recognised a few fellow students but none of them paid them any mind aside from the occasional friendly wave. Being with Tom seemed to be a free pass to popularity. It wasn’t even that, Bill mused, it was just that being around the soccer captain meant no one had bothered him in about three days straight. School was a funny place, the rules were different to the outside world and while Bill largely resented the juvenile hierarchy system, he found himself sort of revelling in the fact that Tom seemed to have chosen him.

“How’s your foot by the way?” he asked across the table, not wanting to brood over his own thoughts for too long. This was easy and fun, Bill wanted to enjoy it. Bill wanted to enjoy Tom.

“Fine actually,” Tom said. “Toe-brace is off now.”

“Can you play soccer yet?”

“Sort of,” Tom shrugged and shoved a spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth. Some of is caught on his lip ring and Bill watched raptly as his tongue came out to swipe it off.

“Coach has me doing light fitness but I’m not allowed to play any matches for another couple of weeks,” Tom was explaining. Bill had been lost for a moment, too distracted by the tip of pink that had dabbled the metal loop. But he successfully forced himself to listen to Tom speak, not that the soccer captain was especially hard on the ears. Tom had a nice voice, deep and friendly. In fact, Tom had nice everything, Bill had come to realise.

“I want to get back on the pitch soon though, I’m hoping for a soccer scholarship,” Tom swirled his spoon through the cream, effectively liquidising it.

“Oh?” Bill raised his eyebrows, prompting more from Tom.

“Yeah,” Tom looking a little shamefaced. “I know I’m not the best student but,” he shrugged. “I love playing soccer. I’m good at it, you know? This school bullshit is just a ticket for me. Besides, I do alright in class.”

Bill pinned him with a withering look. “I’ve seen you in detention more times than I can count.” More often than not Bill would peer into the detention room on his way to the art studio and spot a familiar head of dreadlocks. In actuality, he’d never paid Tom much mind, before this week that had remained Bill’s full knowledge of the soccer captain.

“Ah, see,” Tom waggled his spoon at Bill. “I do enough to get mostly As and Bs, the teachers might hate me but I make them look good on paper. I just play it cool.”

Bill snorted. “Detention isn’t cool.”

“No,” Tom admitted. “But meeting you was.”

Bill blushed, not expecting the turn in conversation. Tom’s face split happily and Bill returned it, enjoying the way Tom’s dark eyes crinkled at the edge. The moment became too much for Bill and he found himself shoving another spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth maladroitly.

“I really am sorry about Georg,” Tom suddenly said.

“It’s fine,” Bill mumbled around a full mouth of ice-cream. He swallowed. “It’s not like you can stop him,” Bill waved his spoon as though to brush the topic under the rug.

“No but I should have,” Tom’s eyes were wide.

“Tom, really, I’m over it,” Bill assured him. “I was never that bothered anyway.”

“I would be,” Tom said.  
r32;Bill shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“You know,” Tom said slowly. “I think Georg is just jealous.”

“What?” Bill laughed. “Of my good looks?” He flicked his hair over his shoulder and batted his eyelashes playfully at the soccer captain.

Tom leaned in close over their shared Sundae. “He knew he wasn’t good enough for you.” Tom winked.

Bill arched one eyebrow at Tom. “And you are?”

Tom sat back, regarding Bill with that easy confidence that made Bill squirm. “I reckon so.”

“We’ll see. You have to earn me.”

“How am I doing so far?” Tom wanted to know, spooning in another dollop of vanilla ice cream into his mouth.

Bill batted Tom’s spoon away with his own, wanting to get down to the brownie pieces. He didn’t look at Tom but focused on delving his spoon into the sundae while he played it (reasonably) cool. “You’re doing alright.”

“You look happy enough,” Tom observed. Suddenly his hand was covering Bill’s where it lay on the table and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

Bill did look up then, still half confused by Tom’s behaviour but mostly delighting in it. There were a thousand questions Bill wanted to ask Tom but he figured it wouldn’t be prudent to breach any heavy topics on Date Number One.

“And you sound confident,” Bill told him, settling on something light. Tom’s thumb brushed over the back of Bill’s hand. It felt warm and comforting and Bill twisted his hand upwards so he could weave their fingers together. It was nice, to be with someone like this.

Tom’s tongue dampened the lip ring much like earlier, before he said, “I am.”

Bill narrowed his eyes at the other boy, gauging him. “I know about your reputation, is this how you get all the girls? All this bravado and sweet talk?”

Tom ducked his head, the brim of his cap shielding his eyes for a moment before he looked up at Bill again. He seemed to be steeling himself for something and Bill’s heart pounded as he waited for Tom to say something. The bravado Bill had only just mentioned had disappeared from his expression and now Bill thought Tom appeared... vulnerable?

“I don’t think of you like any of those other girls,” Tom said lowly.

Bill gave a derisive snort and retracted his hand from Tom’s. “I’m not. I’m a boy.”

“I know that,” Tom said quietly. Brown eyes met Bill’s and held his gaze steadily. “I really like you.”

Bill’s heart was still pumping wildly. “I... I know. You’ve said.”

Tom dipped his head, agreeing. “Bill, I like you a lot. Like, more than Georg.”

Bill guffawed, unable to help himself and held a mocking palm to his chest. “I’m so flattered.”

Tom shook his head, looking somewhat desperate now. “No no, shit. I’m so bad at explaining myself.”

“Tom.” Bill felt nervous all of a sudden but he wasn’t about to start acting like a baby so he steeled himself and asked Tom, “What is this? Are you just curious? Because I’m a boy?”

Tom looked levelly across their sundae at him. “I am curious,” he said earnestly. “But I don’t care if you are a boy or girl or anything. I’m curious about you. You make me feel...”

Bill pursed his lips and waited. This was not a conversation he’d ever seen himself having with Tom Trumper. It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, Tom was a wild card, that much was certain.

“I like you more than any of those girls, I don’t know what it is about you but you’re all I can think about. It’s like... it’s like, I don’t know. I just, I like you.” He concluded.

Bill stared across the table, seeing genuine warmth and attraction in Tom’s eyes. His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bill finally said in all honesty.

“Say you like me back,” Tom replied smoothly.

Bill laughed, this time reaching for Tom’s hand and threading their fingers together once more, like an anchor across the table. “I like you, too,” he said softly.

Tom grinned, his shyness evaporating instantly as Bill said the words he’d apparently been wanting to hear.

“I knew it,” Tom said, clearly elated.

Bill tsked. “Don’t push it, Trumper.”

“You wanna come back to mine?” Tom said. “Mum will probably try to feed you but we can just hide in my room and watch a movie or something.”

Or something.

Bill’s insides performed yet another flip-flop. The thought of holing away in Tom’s bedroom with a movie sounded entirely too tempting. Perhaps they could curl up on Tom’s bed together, maybe trade a few kisses or something.

Or something. Bill was definitely curious about that or something.

“Okay,” he agreed, laughing when Tom looked far too pleased.

“Great!” Tom whooped and stood, the last soggy remains of their sundae forgotten. “Done?”

Bill nodded, rising too and throwing a few coins down for a tip. They departed, leaving the lively parlour behind. Outside it was almost dark, the last rays of orange sun straining to reach over the horizon. It was a beautiful evening, clear skies and a warm breeze, the bite of Autumn not quite in the air yet.

Hand in hand they made their way over to Tom’s banged up old ride and Tom settled into the seat. He looked sexy, Bill thought. Relaxed, content, gorgeous.

With an expectant look Tom turned to Bill from his perch on the bike and rose an eyebrow. “Getting on?”

Dumbly, Bill nodded. Though he made no move to jump on behind the soccer captain. Instead he stood, hooking his lower lip with his teeth and tilting his head pensively.

“Bill?”

Bill gave a minute shake of his head and then stepped in close to Tom, taking the other boy’s cheeks between his soft hands and tilting his head up towards his waiting lips.

They kissed beneath the fading light of the evening. Tom’s hands came up warm to settle on Bill’s hips and a slight noise of contentment escaped his lips. Bill opened his mouth when he felt Tom’s tongue press against his lips, parting them gently. This was so much better than any other kiss of his life, Bill thought, fully ready to fall into this new and exciting thing with Tom. His heart was racing and his belly was flipping wildly.

With a soft moan he pulled back from Tom and they remained close, gazing at each other with bleary eyes.

“Wow,” Tom finally croaked.

“Yeah,” Bill said, his own voice breathy.

“Um... yeah,” Tom’s fingers dug into Bill’s hip. “You’re definitely coming back to mine now.”

Bill smiled and kissed Tom again. “Lucky for you I was planning on it.”


	4. Chapter Four

Tom’s house was large and busy. They’d arrived flustered from their kiss and ruffled from the wind to a full house of hyperactive children, all running around about hip-height.

Tom scooped up one of them and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Evie, I want you to meet someone.”

The little blonde twisted in Tom’s arms to get a good look at Bill who smiled at her and gave a little wave.

“I’m Bill,” he said.

“Hi Bill,” she replied. With sticky hands she reached out for Bill. He sent a brief glance to Tom, and then obliged and moved closer to Tom and his sister. When he was within grabbing distance Evie’s little hands wrapped around one of his necklaces and tugged.

“Evie!” Tom chastised, jerking her away from Bill.

Bill laughed. “It’s okay.” He turned his eyes back to Tom’s sister. “You want this?” He said kindly.

“Bill, no, it’s okay.”  
r32;But Bill waved him aside, already unclasping the silver necklace and handing it to Evie.

“Thank you, Bill!” She squealed in delight and Tom set her down. In an instant she was off to show her new treasures to her friends, or siblings, Bill wasn’t sure.

“You’re never going to see that again,” Tom said, looking at Bill apologetically.

“I realised,” Bill chuckled. “It’s okay. She’s sweet, she looks a lot like you.”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But I love her.”

Bill liked this sweet, family side to Tom and he stepped close, dropping a light kiss to Tom’s cheek.

Just then several small bundles of energy whipped past them, almost bowling them both over.

“How many siblings do you have?” Bill asked, wide eyed.

“Just one,” Tom said with a groan. “I didn’t know she was having friend’s over. Mum!” He shouted the last word as he removed his jacket and deposited it by the front door along with both their bags.

“Tom? Is that you?”

A clatter of pans sounded from a room at the end of the entrance hall and then a frazzled looking woman emerged, an open laptop held in one arm and a smudge of what looked like tomato sauce on her forehead.

“Jeanette and Stephen are at a gala this evening so I told them I’d look after Susie and Ida. I haven’t finished work for the day either. ” She hadn’t yet looked up from the laptop resting in the crook of her elbow. “Your father is away until next week, would you mind—oh! Tom!” She finally looked up and gave Tom a stern look. Suddenly Bill felt shy, as though he was being rude for just turning up on Tom’s doorstep.

Then Tom’s mum beamed at him. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend home. Welcome, Sweetie!” She said to Bill, giving him a forceful one-armed hug.

“Mum, this is Bill, Bill, this is mum.”

“Nice to meet you Mrs Trumper,” Bill said with a sincere smile.

“Oh, no no,” she tsked. “Call me Simone,” she said with a smile so reminiscent of Tom’s Bill couldn’t help but beam back at her. “Are you two hungry? I’m cooking lasagne for the girls and there will be plenty for you both.”

“We had ice cream, we’re good. Right, Bill?”

Bill nodded emphatically and watched as Tom’s mum pursed her lips.

“That’s not dinner.”

“We’ll grab something later if we’re hungry.”

“If you’re sure...”

“We’re sure, thanks though mum.” Tom had seized Bill’s hand and had begun leading him to the foot of the stairs that lined one side of the narrow entrance hall.

“You can help me clear up later!” She called after them.

“We will,” Tom returned over his shoulder as he hopped up the stairs.

“Nice to meet you, Bill!”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Bill echoed as they disappeared up to the second level of Tom’s home.

“She’s probably going to bring up a tray later,” he said as they reached the top landing.

“I like her,” Bill smiled. She reminded him of his own mother, a bit chaotic but warm and welcoming.

Tom led them down the short corridor until he reached a door with a Samy Deluxe poster plastered on the front.

“Nice,” Bill noted, smirking at the blown up photo of the rapper.

“I bet your room is full of Britney Spears posters,” Tom teased, pushing open the door.

“Only Nena,” Bill rejoined happily.

As they stepped into Tom’s room, Bill was pleasantly surprised. It was clean, really clean, a guitar was propped up by a desk that was scattered with a few books and papers, a couple of baggy t-shirts were strewn here and there, which made the room appear indisputably teen-occupied, Bill thought. His eyes roamed over to the made bed that was pushed up against the far wall and on top of it sat a hefty looking laptop. The curtains were open and pale moonlight filtered through, joined by the desk lamp that Tom switched on. It was cosy in here, Bill felt.

“It’s really... clean,” Bill noted as he heard Tom shut the door with a click.

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” Honestly, Bill had always assumed Tom was a bit of a slob. “You’re clothes, and erm... you play soccer a lot.”

“Are you implying I like to get dirty?” Tom hitched an eyebrow at Bill.

“Nooo...” Bill denied, moving over to Tom’s bed to hide his embarrassment. Carefully, he perched on the mattress and smiled shyly across the room at Tom. “It’s nice.”

Tom flashed him a grin and then moved across the room to the bookshelf that stood by the end of the bed. “What movie do you fancy?”

Bill scooted over to the end of the bed and scanned Tom’s collection. “You have Labyrinth? That movie is so old!” Bill crowed as he noticed the DVD sitting between Fight Club and the first series of Prison Break.

“It’s one of my favourites,” Tom said, sliding the movie from the shelf.

“Me too actually,” Bill said.

“Want to watch it?” Tom gave him a crooked smile and waggled the DVD.

“Yeah, okay,” Bill said happily. “I haven’t seen it in so long.”

“Scoot up,” Tom instructed. “I don’t have a TV in here so we’ll have to make space for the laptop.”

Bill did, settling against Tom’s double stack of pillows and wiggling contentedly. This was all so innocent, but he felt a slight thrill when he realised he was in Tom’s bed.

Tom set up the DVD and soon they were propped side by side against the head board. It didn’t take long for Tom to loop and arm around Bill’s neck and draw him close to his side. They remained that way for half an hour, tiny deliberate movements tucking them closer and closer in the small space of Tom’s single bed. Bill could focus on nothing but Tom and he wondered if Tom felt the same.

Without warning, Tom turned, nosing into Bill’s hair. A hot puff of breath fanned across Bill’s temple and then he felt Tom’s warm lips place a gentle kiss to the skin. Apparently Tom felt the same.

“Tom...” he said, unsure what he was going to say.

“Bill,” Tom replied. His voice was soft and husky and Bill squirmed against his side, wanting to be even closer to the other boy. “I meant what I said before.” Tom said.

Bill made a small sound, his eyes fluttering shut. With a guiding arm, Tom nudged Bill so he was facing him. Bill’s eyes re-opened and he found Tom hovering right before him, the movie reeling on in the background.

“I really can’t stop thinking about you,” Tom said with big eyes.

Bill shifted back as Tom leaned over him. Calloused fingers formed a shell around Bill’s cheek and he pressed into the touch. His heart was thudding against his chest, so loud he was certain Tom would be able to hear its frantic beat.

“You’re always on my mind,” Tom murmured. With such a soft touch of lips, Tom kissed Bill. It was gentle, secret, just theirs in Tom’s bedroom. Bill bought his hands up and ran them through Tom’s dreads, tugging slightly to urge him closer.

When they broke apart they were both breathless, cheeks flushed. Bill wondered how he’d managed that, considering all his blood was assiduously rushing south.

Tom surged forward again, inadvertently pushing Bill down the bed and half lying on top of him. Long fingers carded through Bill’s hair and he sighed, allowing Tom to press their lips together in another kiss. Kissing was so nice, Bill thought, Tom was so soft and gentle, a solid warm presence against his side.

With a wet sound, Tom pulled back, hovering above Bill and gazing down at him raptly. Around him Tom’s strong arms were caging his head, cocooning them both in a secret world.

“Is this okay?” Tom asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Bill nodded fervently, too caught up in Tom all around him to care about much else.

“This is good,” Bill said. “I want, ngh...” he shifted. He wanted to tell Tom he wanted more, but he didn’t know how. Would Tom even want that, too?

“Tell me, Bill,” Tom encouraged, playing his fingers through Bill’s hand and dotting a few light kisses over his nose, cheeks, back to his lips again. “Tell me what you want.”

Bill arched his back, suddenly breathless. “I want what you want.”

Wiry arms ran around Tom’s back and pulled him closer. Tom’s body pressed him into the mattress and they both gasped, Bill watching in awe as Tom’s mouth dropped open. He could feel Tom, really feel Tom, their hard cocks cramped together in the small space between their bodies.

“Oh god,” Bill uttered.

“Bill,” Tom was saying again, kissing Bill so the name was garbled. It was growing desperately between them now. Together they moved, Bill pressing up and Tom grinding his hips in tight revolutions. “You,” Tom gasped. “It’s you, you’re all I want... I... it’s like I’ve been invaded by you.”

Bill groaned, grasping at Tom’s t-shirt and trying to remove it so he could feel Tom’s bare skin beneath his fingers. This was all so primal, Bill had never before acted like this, never known how.

What was he doing? What on earth was Bill doing? He was flat on his back with Tom Trumper moving atop him, working both their bodies so good. It felt amazing, Tom was amazing...

“You’re amazing,” he told him, unable to stop himself. It was funny how Tom had come back into his life like a whirlwind. So long ago they’d been playing around in the sand and now they were here together, wound around each other and panting for release. He wanted all of Tom right there and then, he wanted to give himself to Tom, to let Tom have him on the bed. With a trembling hand, Bill reached down and pressed the heel of his palm to Tom’s crotch, purring when he felt how hot and hard he was beneath his voluminous jeans.

“Bill...”

Tom’s voice was strained and Bill looked up with wide eyes. Tom’s jaw was set, his eyes closed as he held himself above Bill with shaking arms.

“Not good?” Bill was suddenly nervous and retracted his hand hastily.

“No, no,” Tom opened his eyes and kissed Bill quickly. “God, too fucking good.”

Bill writhed, canting his hips up and letting Tom regard him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Will you...?” Tom glanced between them and Bill bit his lip, understanding.

“I want to see you,” he said boldly, before he reached down to stroke Tom’s clothed cock once more. “I want to see all of you.”

Tom’s eyes sparkled and Bill grinned nervously up at him. A small part of him remembered to revel in how easy this was. While Tom had frequently made Bill’s cheeks light up with flustered embarrassment, Tom had never made him feel inadequate, never made him feel unwelcome or unwanted. Bill was appreciative of how open Tom was right from the start. From the moment he’d hobbled into that fucking detention room right up until now. Bill’s heart swelled and he nudged up to capture Tom’s lips with his own.

“Clothes, off,” Bill said as he fell back onto the mattress.

“Are you going, too?” Tom said as he tugged his t-shirt off his back and shucked his jeans and boxers. “Or am I just giving you a free show?”

Bill gaped. Tom was knelt on the bed beside him, hard and eager. Bill had never seen any dick other than his own before. Tom was long and slender, probably bigger than his own but just as hard as he felt. The end was rosy and already wet with pre-come.

Bill couldn’t help it, he licked his lips.

“Bill?” Tom prompted, taking himself in hand and stroking languidly.

Bill gazed up at Tom for a slow moment and then sat up, discarding his top over the side of the bed. Without hesitating he shimmied out of his own jeans and then palmed himself through his boxers, suddenly anxious. This was further than he had ever gone with anybody. He couldn’t deny he wanted to do this with Tom, but a large part of him was petrified.

Another thought suddenly hit him.

“You’re mum,” he squeaked, pinking. “She’s only downstairs. And Evie and her friends!”

Tom waved a dismissive arm and crawled over Bill. “I’ve locked the door, plus they’ll all be eating round about now. Only sex can distract a Trumper from food.”

Bill wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross.”

Tom considered for a second. “You’re probably right. Anyway,” he said, hooking his fingers beneath Bill’s boxers and tugging them so they slipped down Bill’s slim hips and off his ankles.

Bill lay back, his legs drawn together and one hand hovering helplessly over his aching cock.

“Don’t be shy,” Tom entreated kindly. “I’ve never seen anyone as gorgeous as you.”

Bill blushed but gave Tom wide, grateful eyes. Tom knew how to handle him. This would be easy, this would be amazing.

“C’mere,” Bill said, inviting Tom to lay over him again. As Tom crawled close, Bill spread his legs invitingly, gasping in reverence when Tom settled between them and ground down.

“Fuck,” Tom rasped, running one hand down Bill’s flank as he rutted above him. “You feel amazing.”  
r32;Bill could only moan in response, enjoying the way their cocks rubbed against each other hotly. His hands were back in Tom’s dreads, winding his fingers through the ropes to act as an anchor. Their lips crushed together and Bill’s breath was sucked from his lungs.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Bill hissed, throwing his head back to expose his long neck.

Tom’s lips clamped over his pulse point and sucked, leaving Bill breathless.

“I want to touch it,” Bill whispered, bowing his back against the mattress as Tom grunted above him.

“Please,” Tom all but whimpered. Bill was quickly discovering that the way Tom sounded so needy for him was a turn on, it made him feel powerful. Bill shook his head, no, it made him feel equal. Tom made him feel good, made him feel great.

With gentle fingers, Bill trailed a hand between them, mapping out Tom’s abs with an appreciative noise. Tom was slender but muscled from all his soccer training. Perfect, Bill thought, Tom was perfect. The moment Bill wrapped decorated fingers around Tom’s cock the soccer captain jerked, almost collapsing over Bill.

“Oh god, please,” Tom said again, his voice catching in his throat.

Instinctively, Bill tugged, rolling the tip experimentally between his fingers and smoothing his hand down the shaft. It was soft and velvety, and hard... so hard. Bill’s ass suddenly gave an involuntary twitch as he wondered what that would feel like to be inside him.

“I want to touch you,” Tom told Bill, his voice rasping out in a needy croak.

Bill stretched beneath Tom, keeping one hand on his cock and arching into him. The expressions Tom pulled were what fascinated Bill most, his eyes kept closing and then re-opening and staring down at Bill, bright even in the dim lighting. Curiously, Bill brought a hand up to touch two fingers to Tom’s lower lip, just by his lip ring.

“Touch me,” Bill whispered and retracted his hand slowly, trailing it down Tom’s neck.

Tom shot a glance between them and stuck his hand right down, barely giving Bill a chance to realise what was going on before rough fingers formed a tight tunnel around his dick.

“Oh... oh shit!” Bill’s mouth dropped open and he tossed against the pillows.

They worked each other frantically, their bodies moving spasmodically, a steamy sweat sheening over their skin as they writhed upon Tom’s sheets. They were both panting in strained quiet, aware of Tom’s family members downstairs. This was so naughty, and Bill loved it.

“Uhh,” Tom grunted, mashing his lips against Bill’s sloppily. Bill tried kissing him back, their movements becoming less and less refined as their impending orgasms built between them. This was good, so good.

Suddenly, Tom jerked over him, his whole body going rigid and his face jamming right into the crook of Bill’s neck.

“Shit,” Bill gasped as he felt Tom’s sticky release run over his fingers. He kept pumping, drawing the tremors of Tom’s orgasm right from him until Tom was scrabbling at the back of Bill’s hand for him to let up.

“Too much, too much,” Tom was babbling, his breathing laboured.

Bill grinned, then bucked up against the other boy, needy for attention again. Tom’s hand had let go of Bill’s weeping cock as he came, instead shoving it behind him to grab a handful of his ass cheek. Now, Bill squirmed, wanting to encourage Tom back to his waiting cock.

“Tom,” Bill implored, his voice higher than usual. “Touch me again, I want to feel it again.”

Tom was quick to oblige, kissing a short path along Bill’s neck and over his face until their lips met. Bill opened his mouth immediately, panting when Tom’s hand found its way back to his dick.

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Okay?” Tom wanted to know, his breathing still ragged from his release.

“Mm-hmm!” Bill managed, squeezing his eyes shut. It happened like a crashing wave, Bill was knocked into another dimension as Tom’s hand pumped him hard and fast, his own pre-come slicking the movement so Tom’s hand could move swift and sure.

“Tom... Tom!” Bill cried out, unable to keep the shout in his chest.

With a final gasp he fell back onto the bed, the tension slowly leaving his limbs as he lay breathless and sated, post-orgasm shocks of pleasure rolling through his body.

“Good?”

“The best,” Bill opened his eyes, gazing up at Tom warmly. “So fucking good.”

“Fucking,” Tom cocked his head and regarded Bill inquisitively.

Bill furrowed his brow in askance but Tom didn’t reply, only slid his hand back down between them, past his spent cock and gently, so gently he touched a wet finger to Bill’s entrance.

Bill’s eyes widened in comprehension.

“Oh, fuck.”

“That’s the idea,” Tom replied with a quick kiss to Bill’s lips.

“You... you want to?” Bill asked quietly. “You want to get inside me.”

Tom pulled back with a sharp groan. “God, Bill. Would you let me?”

Bill thought about it for a moment, and decided that yes, yes he would. There wasn’t anything about Tom that suggested this could be a bad idea. They’d fallen for each other, Bill realised, they’d fallen hard and this was how it should be.

With a dazed smile he nodded. “Yes.”

“I mean, this is good also,” Tom said quickly, petting Bill’s softening cock affectionately. “I can control myself.”

Bill chuckled. “Tom,” he said, giving Tom a fond look. “I said yes.”

“You did,” Tom softened then, stroking his clean hand down Bill’s cheek.

Bill nestled close. “How did this even happen?” He mused, feeling his eyes begin to slip shut. He felt amazing, he felt so satisfied, so safe and content. A warm feeling had settled over his heart and he wondered what that meant. For now, he didn’t question it, only lay with Tom as the moonlight shone in the window and Evie and her friends shrieked downstairs and the movie played on.

“Bill and Tom... rolls off the tongue doesn’t it?”

Bill opened his eyes and laughed.

“We sound good together,” Tom went on.

“We look good together,” Bill added, giving one of Tom’s dreadlocks a tweak.

“Fuck, Bill,” Tom rolled them so they were laying side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms and staring dozily into each other’s eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Persistence,” Bill laughed.

Tom gave him an admonishing squeeze and then pushed his lips out to ghost over Bill’s lips in a kiss.

“I like that I like you,” Bill told the other boy when they broke apart.

Tom grinned, his easy smile directed solely at Bill. Bill basked, feeling full and happy. He and Tom lay there, trading sleepy kisses and funny stories about Tom’s antics at school. Bill thought back to only a few days ago and marvelled at how things had transpired.

Maybe getting detention wasn’t so bad after all.

~

Bill was fuming.

The corridor was swarming with students about to head into their prospective after school activity and the air was cold, winter setting in fast now that autumn was over. Ahead, Georg gave him a friendly wave but Bill did not return it, choosing to stride right past his friend, bag swinging wildly from his shoulder as he stalked down the hall.

Natalie was going to get hell for landing Bill back in detention, he would make sure of it. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t keep her squeals to herself as he’d relayed the most delicious gossip that detailed the story of how he’d lost his virginity that weekend.

“I’ll fucking tell Andreas first next time,” he swore, ignoring the few raised eyebrows he received.

With a final huff, he reached the door to the detention and slammed it open. No teacher had taken vigil at the front desk yet and Bill scanned the room, about to deem it empty when he spotted a familiar face.

Bill face split into a grin.

“Hello,” he greeted, his lip curling. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Tom crooked a finger at him. “Lock the door.”

Bill felt that familiar jolt tug low in his belly. “We’ll get in trouble. This is bad.”

“That’s the idea, Bill, we’re already in here for being bad. “Tom smirked. “Georg is providing a diversion.”

“Oh,” Bill squeaked, his ass tingling as he remembered what he and Tom had done for the very first time just two days ago. It had been a rollercoaster couple of months, but Bill had never been more happy. Andreas and Gustav had finally warmed to Bill’s boyfriend, and he and Tom had barely spent a day apart since their very first date. Without hesitating, Bill made his way to Tom, depositing himself in his lap and looping a loving arm around his neck. Bill met Tom with kisses and the other boy chuckled into his mouth.

“I’ve corrupted you,” he said.

Bill shook his head. Then pulled back and eyed Tom fondly. “Maybe a little.”

Tom’s hand found his ass and his mouth found Bill’s lips. Yes, detention was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to Bill.


End file.
